Anna: Maybe. Btw, am getting rid of the sofa. It smells like pussy.
No response. Three dots appeared. Then disappeared. Appeared, then disappeared. Anna began to panic. She couldn’t confront him now. She hadn’t warned Shane, or had any fun yet. She hastily typed out another message.
Anna: I know, I know. You told me to keep Barnabus off it, but he loves sleeping on that sofa. Now all I can smell is that cheeky pussy cat! Please don’t hit me with ‘I told you so’ *sad eyes emoji*
His response was instant. She could picture his relief. What a dick.
Mason: Ha ha! Yes, that fat-ass cat loves the sofa. We’ll choose a new one soon. See you soon Princess.
Princess? Fucking Princess?Why the pet name now? She didn’t want to be Princess all those years ago and she didn’t now. She was Lady Fucking Anna.Or Tinkerbell, she thought with a flush. She hadn’t missed Shane’s glances at her. His intense stare when he thought she was looking elsewhere. It was flattering to have a man’s attention when her self-esteem was in the gutter. The phone buzzed again. Ugh, give it up Mason. Reading his texts was worse than having an itchy groin.
Shane: FYI. *image attached*
Shane had sent several screenshots of a text conversation between April and Mason, presumably sent during the actualrealconference when they were apart.
April: I can’t believe you got me the Hermes bag! I’m the luckiest girl in the world.
Bitch, you’re no girl. You’re a whole-ass woman and a homewrecking cow.
Mason: Of course, babe. You know I love you. I wish I could spoil you more, but I can’t draw too much attention. I don’t want you to get in trouble with your husband.
April: Fuck him. You can take care of me! I don’t need him. I love how down-to-earth you are. You don’t seem like a trust fund baby, and I sooo respect you for that. Let’s just do it. Anna’s free ride is over.
Mason: Give me a bit more time babe. I want to let her down gently. We need to do more research on apartments.
Yeah, Anna thought bitterly.I bet he needs about another four months. Trust fund baby? You’ve got to be fucking kidding. Where was he getting the money?
Fucking hell! The banking app.She fired off a text to Shane.
Anna: Wtf? He’s no trust fund baby. That’s my trust fund. Or it will be in four months. That asshole is planning to take my money.
Shane: This is fucking hilarious. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but this is perfect. April will lose her shit.
Despite her anger, Anna found herself smiling. It was perfect, in several ways. First, he was infuriating her so much that her sorrow and heartbreak were turning into righteous fury. The pain wasn’t as sharp anymore. With each new betrayal, she hardened her heart and became stronger.
She scrolled through her phone and selected Mason’s mom’s number.
“Anna, darling, how are you?” Marla chimed. She was a sweet woman. Kind, giving, and warm. Anna felt a sharp pang. She would lose Marla. Marla would lose her.
“Hey Marla, I just wanted to check in with you. How’s that hip?”
“I’m getting there. I won’t be doing the polka any time soon, but I’m walking well and exercising every day,” Marla answered.
“Um, I just wanted to tell you that I know it’s been hard for you, and we haven’t been in a position to help you beyond a few hundred a week, but we’ll be able to pitch in more soon,” Anna stammered.
Silence.
“Honey, what do you mean? I’m fully covered by insurance. Do you mean the Uber meals you sent me? Please tell me you didn’t pay hundreds for some quiche and curries?”
Proof. More proof. That was how he was funding his affair. But a Hermes bag? And presumably more. That was more thana few hundred a week. That asshole had to have taken out a personal loan with Hudson’s. The ‘mom rehab’ money had to be a repayment. How much had he fucking borrowed to have to pay that back each week? When had it started?
She rushed through her conversation with Marla, keen to end the call and pass on her intel to Shane.
Anna: Hey GI Joe (yes, if you give me a nickname, I give you one). I think he’s borrowed money. Better not have used my name or forged anything.
Shane: He’s gonna regret that investment. He’ll have to sell April, and she’ll get way below market value. Don’t stress about loan. He’ll be in legal trouble if he’s used your name. Thanks for Snickers cupcakes btw.
Anna: My pleasure, Joe. Baking helps me with the anxiety that having a cheating asshole of a fiancé tends to bring.
